


I’m a fanboy not a villain

by EggsterAndTheBacon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Falling In Love, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mila is a bit confused, Poor Katsuki Yuuri, Sala likes dogs, Superheroes, VictUuri, Yuri Plisetsky Swears, Yuri isn’t happy, accidental villain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12899739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EggsterAndTheBacon/pseuds/EggsterAndTheBacon
Summary: Yuuri’s hands rubbed awkwardly at his elbows as he hoped that his entire being could melt away and not have to deal with the terrible anxiety that sat in his stomach.“Eros,” the voice crowed, beautiful blue eyes staring at him intensely. “We’ve finally found you, give up now.”After a great misunderstanding, Yuuri is caught by a team of superheroes who believe him to be nothing more than a villainous murderer. Yuuri, fanboy that he is, is mortified of the fact that his idol wants to drag him off to prison all because of a big mistake.





	1. I forgot about the posters!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is just a short fic, I’m hoping this will only be five chapters but that may change!

Yuuri’s hands rubbed awkwardly at his elbows as he hoped that his entire being could melt away and not have to deal with the terrible anxiety that sat in his stomach.  
“Eros,” the voice crowed, beautiful blue eyes staring at him intensely. “We’ve finally found you, give up now.”

Yuuri hadn’t asked for this, he never had, in all honesty he was still unsure on what had led them on the assumption that he - a 23 year old, would want to murder a room full of people. He felt himself shake, goosebumps appearing against his skin. He thanked Minako that she had made him a mask after the accusation, swearing how grateful he was that they wouldn’t find out his identity. He looked behind Ice Breaker, better known as Victor - leader of the best superhero team in the world. Yuuri could easily see the rest of his team, there was Yuri, the Russian Punk, Mila the whisperer, Otabek the Mind, and a couple more that were to blurry for Yuuri to see as tears built up in his eyes.

“It wasn’t me~” his voice cracked, but the Russian Punk had made a quick and loud interruption.  
“Save it,” he snapped, running his hands against a little metal gun in his hand, Yuuri felt himself hold his breath. “You’re a bigger idiot than I thought if you think you can lie to us.” 

Yuuri fumbled with his words, taking a step back, he pulled his trench coat around him closer, his leather bag that had held his mask had slipped onto the floor lamely, its contents spilling out. “Please, I never wanted to hurt anyone.” His English was bad and his Japanese accent was still think and rolled off of his tongue. “Can’t you let me go?” His question lingered in the air as the team looked at him with stiff bodies and narrowed eyes.

Victor was the next to speak. “Just come with us, and you can explain it all to Yakov and the council,” he tried, his voice almost gentle if his accusatory glare hadn’t given away their true intentions. 

Yuuri shook his head vigorously. “No!” He cried, tears streaming down his face. Victor took a step back, his eyes wide in slight surprise. “I- I’m sorry... just let me go.” His voice was broken and he clung to himself helplessly.

“Eros. Come with us, don’t make us force you,” Victor demanded monotonously, his hand wrapping itself in ice to make sure his threat wasn’t idle but Yuuri shook his head again, his refusal was his own choice. Victor turned and nodded to his team.

Yuuri jumped when the first blast of ice came his way, his mind screamed how this couldn’t be happening, but he felt terrified of the possible punishment that might come if he was to attempt to justify himself in front of the council. It was well known that the council only looked into things when they’re clients paid them a good amount. Yuuri’s innocence would surely be ignored.   
Another beam of ice was shot at him, and it hit his leg, he let out a wince but continued trying to make his escape. Yuri Plitsetsky jumped at him with a brute force, tackling him to the ground. “Fight back, moron!” Yuuri ignored the insult, finally pulling free of the Russian Punk’s strength. An arrow was shot at the wall next to him and Yuuri bolted through the alley way, zig-zagging away from the dangers aimed at him.

His apartment was close, closer than close, the building was right across the road. Pushing open the door, he spared a glance behind him, they wasted no time. Barging into the elevator he took no pity as he smashed the needed buttons. He repeated the word “close” like a lifeline. His eyes flicked upwards to the fast approaching superheroes, Victor’s hand inches away from him before the door closed. 

“Stairs!” A heavily accented voice yelled and Yuuri felt the fear that gripped his mind like a boulder. Deep and unsteady breaths hounded on him, as he wiped furiously at his face in hopes to- actually, he had no idea in what he was hoping to achieve.

“Sorry Mama, sorry Pa, sorry Nee-chan.”  
He heard the click of the elevator doors open, the Russian Punk stood there, his face an obvious growl. “Fucking murderer,” he seethed. Yuuri took a step back, his head shaking. “I’m guessing you live in the shit-hole?” He question, gesturing to the run down apartment building that they currently stood in. Yuuri flushed in slight humiliation, ever since the accusation Minako had recommended that he choose someplace that needed money desperately if he didn’t want to be sobbed in. It hadn’t been bad per say, spacey, a wardrobe hidden by his poster, and just - you know, mould growing on some tiles. He nodded weakly, his back pressed stiffly against the back of the elevator.

Yuri the Russian Punk lifted his arm, Yuuri’s leather bag that he’d dropped hung from it. Helplessly he reached out to grab it, his heart dropping as Yuri stepped back, a smug smirk on his face. The rest of his team appearing one by one next to him.  
“We’re all a little bit famished after dealing with your bullshit, mind offering us some dinner?” Mila purred delicately, fishing Yuuri’s apartment key out of the bag, chucking it to him when she found it. He went bug-eyed as he stumbled out of the elevator, his face a sickly pale as he watched the heroes cautiously watch him.

Had he had his bag and not just the keys, Yuuri knew he’d be reaching for the anxiety pills right now. His stomach was cold and numb whilst his head burned from an ever growing fear of what was going to happen to him. Yuuri swallowed and led himself to the second door, it’s wood already rotting. Fumbling awkwardly with the key, he opened the door. Yuri barged last him, chucking Yuuri’s bag on the floor. Mila And Otabek followed after.

There was a sudden yell from inside. “Holy shit! Victor you gotta see this.” 

Walking inside of the room, he watched as Victor gawked at the sight of hundreds of posters littered the walls, Yuri snickering as Otabek inspected all of them. All of them. All of them being posters of the worlds’ beloved hero Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri forgot about those. Humiliation hitting him, he snatched at his bag, reaching for the bottle of pills prescription him. Swallowing one quickly, he turned to the singular chair in the room, sitting down and banging his head against the matching table. He attempted to ignore the vigorous dizziness that attacked him afterwards, instead praying for himself to awaken and find this all to be one very bad nightmare. Maybe this whole accusation was apart of the dream, and he’ll wake right up and see that he’d just fallen asleep in that restaurant that now so haunts him. How could he forget about the posters?!

“Yuuri Katsuki, I’ve heard of obsessive villains but this is definitely something,”he turned at the sound of Victor’s voice, shocked by the playful smile that played on the mans lips. This was all a bit much for Yuuri, his head hit the table and there was only blackness.


	2. All so villainous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sala discovers the cutesy Vicchan the poodle, as they all come up short on finding any evidence although they regret to mention that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the chapter~

“Yuuri Katsuki, I’ve heard of obsessive villains but this is definitely something,”he turned at the sound of Victor’s voice, shocked by the playful smile that played on the mans lips. This was all a bit much for Yuuri, his head hit the table and there was only blackness.

 

“Hey! Moron!” Yuri Plitsetsky shook the accused roughly, an annoyed twitch at the eye as the other made no movement. “Asshole!” He shot, promptly ignoring the snicker from Victor and Mila.   
“I think he’s fainted out of shock, Yuri. Maybe leave him be, yeah?” Victor suggested, resting his hand by his side after it was brashly shaken off of Yuri’s shoulder. The team leader had an intense stare directed at Yuuri, acknowledging the peaceful look on his face that contrasted so significantly against his previous one of fear. 

Otabek presses his hand against a crack on the wall, his lips sitting into its usual thin line. He spare a questioning glance at Yuri as they communicated through delicate nods and subtle changes in expression.  
“We should search the apartment to see if we can find any evidence to use against him in court,” Plitsetsky barked, kicking a bathroom door open. With mummers of agreement the all followed instructions - except for Mila who sat herself down on the chair opposing Yuri. 

Mila, also known as the whisperer, was one of the two telepathy users in the team (Otabek was the other). Her gift allowed her to use mental communication, she was incapable of hearing her victims but she could slide countless threats into their mind. Her power was most handy when she partnered with Otabek who could only read emotions off of people.  
Yuuri stirred inaudibly, his hands clenching in an almost frustration before he looked back to his previous state of placidity. Had evidence not pointed towards him being guilty, Mila would have relinquished in allowing the sweetly sleeping boy to walk free.

But she wasn’t stupid. There were twenty-seven people in the restaurant the night of the massacre, and twenty-six died. Yuuri, had been the middle of the room, eating a traditional meal before the bombs had gone off. The fire roared and screams sounded as outsides were hit by flying debris, the crackle of the flames biting playfully as chunks of human were hidden by rocks and destroyed furniture. Yuuri was in the middle of it all then, his skin blackened, but himself was seemingly untouched as he pushed himself out of a chunk of lord knows what. Yuuri had done the impossible, he’d survived a building that had multiple bombs on the inside, and foolishly the heroes showered him with the blame.   
Yuuri had stumbled out, the fire doing seemingly nothing to him, and Mila remembered the horror of watching the man flee the scene. He had to be guilty, everything seemed to add up so perfectly. Citizens seemed to agree, as the media poured into the background of the alleged only to find innocent looking Yuuri Katsuki, an old video found of him pole dancing had the crowd name him ‘Eros’ in response. 

Mila was disturbed from her thought process by a gleeful outburst from Sala who had also accompanied them when they’d finally tracked down Eros (thanks to the help of a citizens report of him being spotted often in the area). “Guys look! It’s a puppy!” To truthen her statement Sala pushed the bedroom door open and chocolate colour poodle skippered out, its weight of curls bouncing with each step as Sala cooed.  
Content with her findings, Sala shot the group a pleased smile as Victor wrapped the toy sized poodle in his arms. A look of gratification washed over him as he coddled and cooed the small thing. 

The light atmosphere of the room stilled, a loud yawn erupted from Yuuri who wiped his face as if it was any normal morning. He blinked with a cautious aura at Mila, he twisted his neck and then blinked cautiously at the rest of the team that were now huddled around Victor as they’d stopped themselves midway from patting his dog.

“I’m a little disappointed to say that this is not the weirdest thing I’ve woken up to,” Yuuri garbled lamely, pressing his fingertips to his forehead, supposing how a good fainting seemed to have brought him to a state of tranquility. The heroes couldn’t help but suppress themselves from releasing any chuckles.

 

 

Yuuri winced at the pounding that abused his head, letting a deep breath resettle him as he awoke from the position that had little pains shooting to his arched back. He let out a little yawn and pushed his arms out from beneath his chin. Opening his eyes he was met with the awkward stare from a redheaded woman, he took a moment, his conscious close to falling back into restful silence. ‘Ah,’ his mind supplied, ‘it’s Mila the whisperer’, memories seeped back in and Yuuri was glumly reminded that the heroes had caught him and were still believing him to be guilty. Shifting slightly, he blinked uncertainly at the remaining heroes, noticing the brown poof that was Vicchan curled up in Victor’s arms - had he not done so before, Yuuri probably would faint again (like honestly, Victor Nikiforov holding his dog that he named after Victor Nikiforov)!

“I’m a little disappointed to say that this is not the weirdest thing I’ve woken up to,” he garbled lamely - his mind breaching to that of awakening to a stark naked hula dancing Phichit, pressing his fingertips to his forehead, supposing how a good fainting seemed to have brought him to a state of tranquility.

Victor leaned down and gently placed Vicchan on the floor before straightening (ha like he could be straight around our Yuuri) up again and putting on his serious and cold persona. “Katsuki, we ask that you offer yourself up peacefully as you’re being arrested for the murder of twenty-six people, destruction of property, and running from us,” he instructed stoically, running his fingers through his silver locks.  
A sorrowful frown surfaced swiftly onto Yuuri’s face as he pouted gently, not noticing the delicate pink that splashed against Victor’s face. “I’m only guilty of one of those,” he supplied, tearing his gaze away.

“Ha!” Plisetsky snapped. “So you admit to being a murderer? Fucking knew it.”  
Yuuri gawked in slight puzzlement, he felt a sudden urge to explain the misconceptions to anybody but this overly confident teenager. “No,” Yuuri offered slowly, his heartbeat returning back to its leisurely pace. “I meant running from you people, I’ve never killed anybody before - well I broke my friends arm before but that’s not murder... right?” He shrugged as an anxious grin plastered itself on his face.

“No dishonest emotions, Captain,” Otabek bark from his standpoint.  
“Well...” Victor tapped his chin with a thoughtful expression on his face. “If you aren’t guilty then at least justify how you could have possibly survived that explosion.” Victor had an eyebrow raised but there was a strange look of possibility and hope in his eyes.  
“Victor, you’re thinking of the pole dancing video, aren’t you?” Otabek sighed, resting a hand on his face as Victor avoided any direct eye contact  
“Of course not.” Yuuri could see the word ‘LIES’ printed on his face. “Now let Yuuri answer the question.”

“Right, well I honestly don’t know how it all happened,” His voice was breaking on nervous. He’d tried impossibly hard not to concentrate to much on the incident. “I just remember eating by myself, I was talking to my sister on the phone, and then it all happened...” he explained to them in subtle detail of the events of that night. How the sound had been the worse, leaving his ears ringing as a gelled bubble kept the broken slabs from crushing him and how the fire pressed against it but was incapable of reaching him, the moment he grabbed his phone from where it had fallen the bubble was gone and he had to drag himself out. Yuuri explained how he’d wanted an explanation but then in second accusing fingers were directed at him as he stood in the middle of the ruins and in a moment of fear and anxiety he ran.

The group listened in a shushed silence, all thinking about whether to believe him or not after Otabek pointed out that the emotions he read couldn’t indicate to whether that statement was true or false. Yuri made it loud and clear that Yuuri was obviously lying, he’d earn a subtle glare from Victor.

“Katsuki, you say you have no gifts?” Sala asked gently, pulling herself up onto his kitchen counter. Her use of the word gifts referring to that of powers.  
He shook his head, knowing that that bubble that had saved him was definitely not caused by his own individual gift that didn’t exist.  
“Any family members have a gift?”  
“My father and sister although I’ve never seen them be used,” Yuuri explained gently, his father had never found any need to use his and Mari hadn’t gotten her licence yet before Yuuri had left Japan.  
Victor spoke next. “Was this the same sister you spoke on the phone with the night of the explosion?” His head nodded warily without him even focusing to much on the question. “Good, and you were still speaking to your sister when it happen?” Again another nod.

Victor shifted positions, and Sala whistled playfully as they waited for their captain to come with some almighty decision.

“If,” he started. “-If you come to the council, I promise I will plead your innocence if you allow me to call your sister when we get there.” His face shone with reassurance and although there were tons of posters with his face plastered on them decking the walls, he couldn’t look anymore real.  
“Not a trick?” Yuuri asked lightly, and even Yuri Plisetsky himself stopped his insufferable glaring.  
Victor shook his head. “Although if you are found guilty-“  
Yuuri sighed “I’m not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I appreciate it so much. Please leave a comment, I’ll try my hardest to respond, I love hearing thought/ideas/mistakes.


	3. All because you had a pretty smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello... the app I use is weird so by the usage of ** surrounding a word just means that I attempted italics. Please inform of any mistakes I makes, I’d be very grateful. Hope you enjoy!

Yuuri had to sustain himself from anymore of his consistent wringing of his hands, his sweaty palm constantly rubbing against each other out of the pure nerves that he felt stir up inside of him. “I don’t even need Otabek here to tell me how nervous you are,” Victor had laughed when he’d first opened a door to the first of two pristine black vans that had been parked a street away from the building - the one they’d arrived in Yuuri had guessed. He shifted uncomfortably, his back beginning to stick to the expensive leather seat that he sat at, gaze shifting to look at his feet.

Victor and Mila conversed in Russian, their foreign words only being the cherry on top to the the cake that was Yuuri’s anxiousness. Little drops of doubt seemed to drizzle into his mind, it must have been a foolish mistake to allow himself into their custody - Victor seemed so quick in changing his accusation that he worried it had all been some stupid trick to get him arrested... but, Victor was so sincere sounding, and what drug would Yuuri be on if he thought that he could ever say no to his idol.  
Victor - the Victor Nikiforov, the world’s best hero sitting across from him in all his mighty glory. Victor who has saved countless cities, stopping crimes that ranged from your simple burglary to villainous attempts at world domination. 

His thoughts fled him as a quick cough from Mila had him giving hell his full attention, even shifting his angle on his seat to look at her - although the gift restraints that were basically cuffs on both his legs and hands made that a slight tad harder than he’d hoped. “So,” she began, her soft voice comforting yet low enough to assure him that he wasn’t on her good side yet. “You’re a fan of Vitya, yes?” Victor himself seemed to be staring at him with a secretive smirk as he felt his face burn and stutter little sentences that made little to no sense.   
“Maybe- yes? I- I always liked superheroes?” His pitiful tries to dull his obsession were laughable, he’d been with them as they’d witness the many posters that covered the cracked walls of his apartment. Mila grinned thoughtlessly as she raised a red eyebrow. 

“Mila, you’re going to humiliate the boy with anymore of your chat,” Sara chided playfully, her eyes narrowed as she rested her legs on top of the seat in front of her (that had earned a good growl from Yuri who’d reached above his head to sweep them away, a failed attempt should he add). Mila pouted but didn’t press on. Sara shot him a smile that was pleasant enough to make the embarrassment a little more bearable.

“So, what do we call you then?” Victor asked, his eyes continuing to bore into Yuuri’s skull. “If you say you’re not guilty, calling you Eros might be overdoing it then?” He answered with a small raspy ‘yes’. “Okay so Katsuki or Yuuri, or both? Does the order matter- do I say Katsuki Yuuri or Yuuri Katsuki? I think Katsuki Yuuri sounds better than the latter, but I’d rather not be so formal...” Victor babbled on continuously, his teammates shaking theirs heads at his behaviour as Yuuri squirmed and wondered if he should laugh or stay calm. Whenever Victor seemed to have paused, he pretended to listen by nodding his head in agreement, acting as if he knew exactly what had been spoken.

Yuuri tensed as the vehicle finally pulled to a stop and two men with both matching suits and unreadable expressions pulled the door opens. Previously he’d been incapable of *admiring* the scenery as they’d passed it but the windows had been tinted such a dark shade that all objects outside were unrecognisable. 

The band of heroes strode out, but Yuuri tangled himself deeper into shame as his cuffed hands attempted to reach the seatbelt that had him remaining in a seating position while the rest waited on him. Were they growing impatient? Were they thinking lowly of him ?because of his incompetence to get out of this satanic seat? His thoughts were a storm, and he felt sweat begin to form on his forehead as his wrists that were wrung together and held up by some goddamned anti-gravity struggled to bend in the right direction to unlock this motherfu-   
“Yuuri.” He perked up anxiously at the sound of his name, brown eyes met blue. “You can ask for help,” Victor smiled, oblivious to the pitiful anxiety that had escalated horrifyingly quickly in poor Yuuri’s mind. He nodded dumbly, his once vigorously moving hands were tranquillised as he watched the legendary hero step in and gently free him from his seat. He offered his arm to Yuuri, who took it but shot a confused look at him nonetheless, “it’ll be hard to walk with the cuffs,” he justified, gesturing down to the cuffs that also controlled Yuuri’s feet. “Hold onto me so you don’t fall over, you might need to shuffle a little bit but I’ll ask to loosen them once we’re out of the van, sure?”   
Victor sent him one of his brilliant grins. ‘Welp,’ Yuuri couldn’t help but think as he internally reprimanded himself, ‘I’m officially fucked - probably because I’ve thrown myself at people who wanted to arrest me all because I trust your pretty smile.’ He accepted it gratefully.

 

The awkward shuffling was nothing compared to the sullen aesthetic of the twisting dull corridors that Yuuri was led through, all to bring him closer to the approaching doom. Russian was tossed back and forth, fear held him tightly in its grip. When one of those mentioned his name he’d have to ignore it and pray with faint hope that they were referencing Yuri Plisetsky and not him. Victor constantly turned to look at him, his face unreadable as he stared calculatingly. The warm air in the room had him itching to get out out of the cuffs and the cat hoodie that he was wearing - a gift from his protective mother.

The sound of a twisting doorknob set him on edge, and their walking halted. “Nikiforov!” A bouncy blond boy with a streak of red shot out of a room, eyes glittering as he leaned in with an excessively large amount of giddiness. “Mr. Feltsman said to me, to tell you, that we’d be using hall #2 and not one because Mrs. Baranovskaya is hosting there,” he rattled, a smile extending from one ear to another, Yuuri would find his happiness infectious had this situation not been so heavy on his anxiety.  
“Thank you Kenjirou.” Victor’s grip on Yuuri relaxed tentatively, as he padded forwards towards a large door, a shouting match between Mila and Yuri echoing angrily in the corridor.

When Yuuri finally found himself in this hall #2 Victor had turned and looked at him intrusively. “Yuuri?” The hero brushed his hand through his (Yuuri’s) hair gently, a faint pink dusting Yuuri’s cheek as he waited patently for Victor to say something. Something hopefully being an explanation on how they were going to save his sorry ass in this judgment. “Let me do all the talking, and make sure your sister picks up the phone when I ask. Can you do that?” The nod was hasty as expensively dressed men began to fill up seats in the council seating.

“Yuuri Katsuki, you stand charged of multiple accusations. Victor Nikiforov *apparently*-“ the member of council was scowling with no hidden anger at Victor, “extends his hand in defending you, do you accept.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, his eyes flickered towards his defender who was ignoring him profusely as his cape swayed kindly by his side. The rest of heroes stood next to their leader nodding encouragingly at Yuuri, although most of them still seemed to be in denial of his innocence, Plisetsky even outright scowling at he glared daggers towards him. “Y- yes.” 

A sharp curse left a short balding man that stood diligently by the side of the council - Yakov Feltsman. 

“Then let the trial begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment on any mistakes you found or any ideas/thoughts you have.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment any mistakes, thoughts, or ideas (even for another possible fic).


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